


Trick Candles

by BabylonsFall



Series: Prompts [12]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 12:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/BabylonsFall
Summary: Three birthday firsts.(Or, the three of them never really celebrated their birthdays with the team. Time to change that.)





	Trick Candles

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was given the lovely prompt of _ot3 birthday fluff!_ from [ benjaminrussell](https://benjaminrussell.tumblr.com). And this is the result! It may be a little rough due to events going on outside of this, but I did try, and I like how it turned out!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

No place around here sold salted dark chocolate cupcakes. Eliot would know. Not even necessarily because he was looking for himself - but Parker and Hardison had dragged him to every bakery in the area within the last couple of months for one reason or another. And while he’d been trying to keep them from buying  _ everything _ , he might’ve kept an eye out.

(Eliot didn’t like straight sweets - anything that could be compared to straight sugar just didn’t taste good. Just looking at some of the sweets Parker and Hardison could inhale made his teeth hurt sometimes. )

Which means he  _ knew _ no place sold them. Which doesn’t explain why there’s one sitting on the counter when he shuffles out to the kitchen that morning.

There’s literally two people in the world that can wrap their arms around him from behind without him panicking. And a good part of that is because there’s no pulling involved - big hands rest on his shoulders, long enough for him to tense for a breath before melting back into the other man, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

It’s taken so long for them to get to this point - this comfortable, easy touching. Hardison had spent so long not wanting to invade Eliot’s space too often - not knowing whether he’d be allowed or whether any touching was welcome and not having Parker’s sense of ‘fuck it’ -  and Eliot had taken just as long to get comfortable with having multiple people in his space consistently. They were still working on it, still pushing and pulling and figuring out where they fit together; Eliot still had a hard time asking for touch, Hardison still had trouble figuring out when it was welcome. But, they were working on it, and when it clicked, like now, with Eliot leaning most of his weight back into Hardison’s chest, and Hardison more than willing to hold him up, both of them just took and enjoyed it for what it was

“Take it this was your idea?” he grumbles, if only to hide a small, goofy smile as a couple things start connecting.

“Depends, it going over well?” Hardison shot back, voice rough. He must’ve just rolled out of bed then - probably woken up by Eliot getting up.

“It’s getting there.” Eliot mutters, before tilting his head. “...Is this at all related to why Parker exploded chili flakes and onions in the brewpub’s ovens last week?” There was a slight flinch behind him, and he’s pretty sure Hardison would’ve pulled away if he hadn’t reached up to catch his wrist, swiping his thumb over the bone until Hardison relaxed again.

“...it might’ve had something to do with it. We kinda… burnt the first batch. And burnt chocolate stinks. So she might’ve found something that smells worse to hide it.” And that would, logically work. He hadn’t been able to smell anything except chili and burnt onions in there for three days. “Amy helped us with the last one.” Which would explain why there hadn’t been another onion incident then.

Eliot hummed, hand tightening slightly on Hardison’s wrist, trying to figure out what to say.

“We didn’t have a big party or nothing planned. You never said anything so we figured… something small, if at all, right? Cupcake can be it, if you want - and we’ve got a full batch if they end up being not terrible. But Parker was talking about-”

“Just hanging out here for the day. We loaded up on popcorn, delivery from that Italian place you like is already set. Amy’s got the brewpub covered if you want to stay.” Speak of the devil, and there she was, easily slipping into his space as well, arms looping around his waist and leaning against his chest as much as Hardison’s arms would allow. He blinked at her for a moment, then offered a small, easy grin.

“You know, think I can live with that.” He pressed a light kiss to her cheek, just to get a giggle from her before twisting back enough to brush another over Hardison’s jaw ‘cause that’s about all he could really reach with how they were sandwiching him in.

“Happy birthday, E.” Hardison murmured. Eliot would be the last person to admit to something warm and squishy and entirely ridiculous lighting up in his chest, but what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them - even though, judging by the big grins they shared over his shoulder, he’s pretty sure they knew exactly what was going on.

(The cupcake ended up being a little burnt, but he couldn’t even care.)

* * *

There was a box on the bar counter in the kitchen. It had been there since this morning - though when it popped up, Parker couldn’t be sure. She’d gone for a morning run - Eliot could take his “they’re not runs if you don’t touch the ground Parker!” and toss it, honestly - and by the time she’d come back, both her boys were out and about with their day, both at the brewpub, she’s pretty sure. And the box had been there.

It was a regular box, as far as these things went. Cardboard, small enough to fit in her hand. There wasn’t any ticking, squeaking, rustling, or beeping. Hardison’s security system on the apartment meant that, mostly likely, one of the boys put it there - the system was just updated last week after all. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it would be. As far as she knew, they hadn’t ordered anything recently, that hadn’t already been delivered anyway.

It could’ve been nothing. Probably  _ was  _ nothing.

But it was also nothing in her space with absolutely no warning and she wanted to know what it was. Eliot hadn’t said anything about a box, which meant he probably wouldn’t care if she opened it, right? And Hardison was good about putting things away that he didn’t want the two of them touching - Oh.

There was also a paper under the box that she hadn’t noticed. Whoops.

It was a simple little note - if it could be called that. All that was on it was a sketchy picture of a cake with candles and a smiley face. It kind of cleared things up. A little.

But presents were supposed to be wrapped in shiny things, right? And even if they didn’t do presents - they didn’t for Eliot, figuring (correctly, he’d told them later) that he wouldn’t really know what to do with them - you still had family around.

When she’d mentioned, a couple weeks ago, when her birthday was going to be, she’d been lowkey looking forward to what the boys would do - if they would do anything. She knew they weren’t obligated to - but she’d been. Kind of hoping?

The little box and drawing was all there was though. They hadn’t even been awake when she’d left that morning, both of them staying wrapped up in the blankets and protesting, still asleep, the cold chill that leaked through the window when she opened it. She’d been half tempted to forget the run that morning and crawl back between them - and she knew they would’ve let her, rolling back over to sandwich her between them the way she liked best. (How long had that taken? For them to be that comfortable in the same bed - for Eliot not to flinch and shoot awake at the slightest movement, for Hardison not to tense and curl up when one of them pulled away. She didn’t know. But she liked their general evolution towards lazy dog piling so much better.)

Maybe what was in the box was good though? But still, she’d rather they be here…

Her phone chirped, from where she’d left it on the couch. She eyed the box for a long moment more, nose scrunching up, before going to check it. One message from Eliot.

_ Stop glaring at the box and just open it Parker. Then get over here. _

Well, that was weird. But, she did what he said, warily flipping the lid off the box. What was inside just confused her more though, until she took a closer look. Then, then she was shoving the slips of paper from the box in her pocket, grabbing the jacket Eliot insisted she wear when there was snow out on the ground, and bolting out the door.

She made it to the brewpub in five minutes flat - throwing open the doors in a flurry of snow and wind and light. There was half a second delay before the shout of “Surprise!” happened, but she was already beaming and diving for Sophie at the front of the small crowd with a shout.

Nate and Sophie were  _ home _ , the ticket stubs from their flight tucked in her pocket. It was them, everyone from the brewpub  (including a few of their regulars) Peggy, Quinn, Mikel, Archie, Josie… everyone smiling and telling her “Happy Birthday” and the only people missing were Hardison and Eliot - nevermind.

Eliot was pushing his way out of the kitchen, cake in hand with five candles, Hardison right behind him holding a big box, wrapped in bright, shiny paper.

The soft smiles they gave her while watching her flit between people she hadn’t seen in months though, and the big, full body bear hugs she got when she finally made her way over them? Almost better than the cake and the shiny present.

(Almost.)

* * *

Hardison wondered if he should tell the two of them, at some point, that they hadn’t been able to lie to him in at least two years now. But, that would be giving away literally his only advantage, so, he kept his mouth shut when Eliot and Parker started acting weird exactly a week before his birthday. It wasn’t too hard to act like he didn’t notice anything, and maybe it was cheating. But, he was curious, so sue him. (Or, try anyway. Good luck.)

If he was being honest, it didn’t really matter to him what they ended up doing for his birthday. This would be the first time in years that it wasn’t just his Nana and the occasional friend sending him well wishes and maybe a small care package, and honestly, the fact that two people ( _ his  _ two people) were trying to be sneaky about something for him? He could wake up that day and get a kiss and a “happy birthday” and he’d be genuinely ecstatic and probably on cloud 9 for the rest of the day.

He was easy to please, sometimes, honestly.

The morning of - he’s not sure what he expected. But, it frankly, didn’t matter, because he woke up in his favorite spot - wrapped around Eliot as the big spoon, with Parker draped half over him, both still soundly asleep. It might’ve been his favorite because it happened so rarely - more often than not, at least one of them would be long gone by the time the other two woke up, and if he was being honest, he woke up to an empty bed more often than he cared to admit (though, even though he’d never said anything about it, he had noticed the two of them coming back to bed more and more often. It was enough to make him feel light and floaty, just thinking about it). It wasn’t his fault that the two loves of his life were morning people, and that he was decidedly  _ not.  _ And it wasn't their fault  that both of them had issues with space that sometimes popped up, and that he was a tactile guy . They were all working on it - actively, consciously working on it, and in just the year since they'd officially gotten together, he was so proud of all of them in how far they'd come.

More importantly though, right now? He was warm, had an armful of grumpy hitter and had the grounding weight of Parker draped over his side and as far as he was concerned, this was the best way to start the day.

He even got his kiss and “Happy Birthday,” from both of them, when they woke up - Eliot’s a warm, honey-sweet kiss that took his breath away, hands framing his jaw and holding him close like he was special and safe and he’d never get tired of that, Parker’s a lightning quick spark of a peck that was fierce and sharp, hauling him in with hands in his shirt, and woke him up just fine, thank you.

The day honestly just got better from there. The entire morning stayed muzzy, mellow, and soft in the best way.  The kitchen filled up quick with soft chattering and light-hearted bickering while Eliot made thick, chocolate and strawberry filled pancakes (Hardison’s favorite, despite Eliot’s Strong Opinions about anything but fruit in pancakes), and Hardison and Parker nursed coffee sweet enough to be caramel colored.

The morning melted into the afternoon, bright and lazy, while Eliot and Parker did their best to learn how to at least have a chance against him with his collection of video games. He had to give it to them - they played fair for far longer than he thought they would. But, eventually, he had to fend off not only Parker with her controller - she may not quite get the mechanics of everything, but she was quick and learned faster than people gave her credit for - while Eliot did his best to insinuate himself in his space and get his attention.

He threw up his hands in defeat about the same time Eliot straight up dropped in his lap with a smirk. Considering Parker was pressed up against his side about two seconds later, he couldn’t even feel too bad about losing spectacularly.

The doorbell ringing, just as the light outside started to burn dark and warm, threw him off, he’d admit. And the fact that both Eliot and Parker just seemed way too pleased with themselves probably should’ve been a warning. But, they shooed him off to answer it, so he figured it couldn’t be too bad.

He threw open the door, half expecting - ...well, no, he had nothing and it didn’t matter anyway, because what he  _ got  _ was an older woman with steel-colored curls, thin gold glasses highlighting deep laugh lines, and a bright yellow dress that reminded him of home and summer and - “Nana!” He was swept up in deceptively strong arms for a bear hug, and he couldn’t even be embarrassed about the squeak.

He’d been planning on introducing everyone this Thanksgiving - having finally gotten a call from Nana that it was both about time he brought his guy and girl home so she could meet them and that he couldn’t miss another Thanksgiving and expect her not to fly to wherever he was and haul him back anyway.

Before he could even ask what was going on because he knew they’d been up to  _ something _ , but this hadn’t even crossed his mind, Eliot was on one side, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “You get her settled, I’ll get started on dinner alright?” He turned a charming grin Nana’s way, “And nice to finally meet you, ma’am.” And off he went before Hardison could get a word in edgewise.

“Hardison’s talked a lot about you!” Parker chirped, popping up at his other side. Nana blinked between the two of them - Parker’s grin and Eliot’s retreating back - before turning a sly smile on Hardison, eyes sparking with warm, bright humor that Hardison hadn’t seen in far too long.

“And I’ve heard  _ all  _ about you, dear.” She leaned in to give Hardison another hug that made him feel small and warm, a whispered, “Happy Birthday, Alec,” in his ear before she released him.“Now, show me around! I want to see what my boy’s been up to in the  _ years  _ since he came to see his dear old Nana,” she couldn’t say it with a straight face, didn’t even try.

Showing Nana around the apartment, and the layout and pictures of the brewpub - with a promise to take her there tomorrow - was a surreal experience. She’d apparently taken to Parker like a house on fire, chattering and laughing over who knows what when Hardison wasn’t looking. But, them laughing in his home, with the sounds of Eliot cooking in the background? It was honestly the best thing he’d ever heard.

And no, he didn’t sniffle after dinner when gifts came out. Nor was there a tear when the three of them piled on the couch to watch his favorite movies, Nana in the arm chair watching them with a soft smile. There wasn’t alright. Just something in his eye.

(There might have been a happy tear shed the next morning, when Hardison woke up, alone, but warm, and wandered out to the kitchen to see Nana perched at the bar, chattering with Parker while Eliot made breakfast. Maybe.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always loved!
> 
> Come say hi on[ tumblr](https://distinctivelibrarians.tumblr.com) if you'd like!


End file.
